


these hands had to let it go free ( this love came back to me )

by diazevan



Series: long live [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Episode: s08e06 The Iron Throne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-03-08 13:05:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18895207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diazevan/pseuds/diazevan
Summary: In the end, the first council doesn't last.Tyrion Lannister is the third to go and no one is really surprised.orAfter a few years of being beside King Bran, Tyrion is sent in official business to the North and it changes everything.





	1. the beggining

**Author's Note:**

> It's me, back again with the delusional endings. 
> 
> No one can't tell me Arya didn't go to Stormlands and Tyrion didn't go to the Norh. Is just not hapenning.

In the end, the first council doesn't last.   
  
Bronn is the first one to go. He manages to do fairly good for the first couple of years, providing for food and money, but as soon as he starts to fall into his all habits, Bran asks Tyrion to find a replacement. The Hand of the King already have a list of ten people waiting, because you didn't have to have magic in your veins to see that one coming.   
  
Sir Davos is a harder loss. All of his remaining family had being taken by Lord Baratheon to the castle of Stormlands. For what Tyrion knew in conversation, Davos's wife had basically adopted the lad and while he always smiled and laugh when he told this kind of stories, Tyrion could see the longing and gods, he understood it well. A year after Bronn's departure, Brann let him free to go for his family.   
  
Tyrion is the third to go and that was something most people were expecting.   
  
Is innocent, at first. The Queen in the North, Sansa Stark, starts to send letters as soon as she is crowned and is Tyrion who answers them. They know each other, trust each other to be honest, so it's easy to talk with her about what is going on in King's Landing. If he imagines her writing her with that little smile of hers, the one that only lifts corner of her mouth, who can blame him?   
  
With time, the letters have other details too. Little harmful gossip, like how Jon Snow has decided to go beyond the wall, again, and how Arya Stark is currently giving Sir Davos a perpetual headache after appearing in the Stormlands and deciding that she rules the place now. Their young lord, apparently,  has no interest in correcting. They are little pieces of information about her family that make Tyrion think that maybe, just maybe, they have formed a real friendship this time. Or maybe she just doesn't have anyone to talk about these things in the North and he is just delusional as always.    
  
The first time he sees her again after the war, The North is slightly less cold and Bran sends him to put together an alliance for trading of food and protection. Sansa is all regal when she waits for him at the gates, but there is that little smile and Tyrion has a hard time not stumbling on his own feet. They are all business very fast and by the time the first night has arrived, they are still discussing with a small council. She sends then all to rest and eat, but the Queen makes no move to go from the room, so Tyrion stays put. His eyes follow her when she takes out a bottle of wine and sits down again, asking him to join her and well, maybe his yes comes to quickly but again, no one can blame him.   
  
The sight of Sansa Stark free and content is something Tyrion is pretty sure he doesn't deserve. Or that any living man deserves, for what matters.   
  
He had only caught glimpse of it that night of celebration after the battle against the death, life times ago. That time, he had keep his distance after what happened in the crypts, knowing it was probably something she wanted to forget all together. But now? Now he doesn't have anywhere else to look and even if he did, Tyrion would kill the man that tried to make him. Or at least try, really hard.   
  
She starts talking about everything that happens in the North, of common friends and without notice it, the night passes between them. He hadn't feel this relaxed in so long, too haunted by dragons and their mothers, and his has the feeling that she feels the same way. It's confirmed when they are about to go to their rooms, already the next day, and she takes his hand on her own.   
  
"I didn't have a friend to talk for a long while now. Thank you, Lord Tyrion"   
  
He wants to kiss her so bad his stomach hurt, but he just kisses her hand and nods. There is something in her eyes that he can't quite understand, but it's gone as soon as it appeared, so he blames it to his stupid imagination and maybe the wine. Always the wine.   
  
The visit was supposed to last a few days at most, but there is a raven from the king asking her sister to use his hand as much as she can, for council and advice, and it feels like a secret joke that literally no one else is understanding. Still, everyone knows that Bran is always right so they do as he says.   
  
Sansa starts giving him little tasks. There are reconstructions plans to be followed, budgets to be adjusted and demands to be heard, so Tyrion spends most of his mornings following the Queen around. The people of the North are wary of him at first, still remember him beside another queen, but they end up adjusting to the view of him beside their leader, specially when she starts to smile a little bit more.    
  
The nights, on the other part, are just for them. They eat together, sometimes in his chambers, sometimes in a little room that serves for important meetings, and most often than not have something to drink while they speak of whatever they feel like it. There are subjects they don't touch, like the night in the cribs, but there are few. These are the times where Tryion thinks that he sees something, a certain way that he used to know well, but he ends up convincing him that is a lie. Beautiful, perfect, Queen Sansa could never want someone like him, not even for a second.   
  
Thing is, she does. And patience seems to not be one of her many talents, at least when it comes to personal matters.


	2. the middle

It's just his luck that he is in the North for the anniversary of the Long Night.

There is no feast, but something like that and Tyrion finds himself sit beside the Queen, seeing his men and her people mingle and drink for those who left then too soon, sharing stories that will preserve them forever. His eyes keep moving back to her, but Sansa seems far away, somewhere he can't reach no matter how many witty comments he makes to ease the tension on her shoulders.

Her cup of wine is untouched on her hand and he wants nothing more than put it aside so he can reach for her palm, to give her some comfort for whatever sorrow she is remembering. She has many too choose from, sadly.

Everyone starts to get potentially drunker and he tries his best to not drown himself in the wine; he wouldn't be able to ignore her pain even with all the alcohol in the world.

After a while and some speeches, Sansa excuses herself and tells everyone to keep enjoying the celebrations. Tyrion is about to leave too when, for the first time in the whole night, her piercing blue eyes land on him. Whatever he is about to say gets stuck in his throat as she looks him over, considering him.

"Come, Lord Tyrion. There is a matter we shall discuss" Her voice is all business and steadiness, something he is quite used to when they are in the presence of others, but that something that underlines all of their private interactions is also there, and he is left to do nothing but follow her without comment.

For a clever man, he has no idea what is happening. He is actually considering his options so hard that he doesn't realize he is following her to a part of the castle he has never in, until she opens a door and leads him to what clearly are her rooms. It sets him mind in blank, but Sansa takes no notice of this and walks right to the small table, pouring them both something to drink. Tyrion is still speechless and unmoving, something that makes her smile.

"I have never seen a lion wear that expression" Her voice brings him back and if he wasn't a grown ass man, he would had blush. He still does, a little bit and he wants to think that is the reason her eyes soften in the edges.

"Is not proper that I'm in your rooms, your Majesty" Sansa looks at him amused for a moment, before turning her back and drinking a sip of her glass.

"You are not the first one to be here" And that is enough to send his poor heart to an ultimate deceased. Of course she would had someone else, she is the most beautiful woman in the entire world and not only that, but a queen who could have anyone she desires. If he was stupid enough to be faithful to an invalid marriage, that was clearly on him. "Theon was here the night before the battle" Again, her words stop his quick mind and Tyrion doesn't miss the sadness in her voice. It was him who she was thinking about in the feast, then.

Theon had never being his favorite person, far from it, but he was grateful for him after Sansa told him about how they got free from Ramsey. He had done what Tyrion couldn't, protecting her, and no matter how many cruel jokes passed between, that could never be erased.

Sansa doesn't look at him and continues talking, her eyes again looking at something that is not there. "We came here after we ate something, to wait for the signal. All of my siblings had somewhere else to be and we didn't want to be alone." Tyrion moves closer as she speaks, sitting in a chair beside the table and taking his wine, letting her say whatever she has to say. It doesn't matter it may break his heart in the process, it never has. "We talked until it was time and we said our goodbyes. I'm glad at least we got to have that"

"I'm glad you did too" The sentiment is sincere but it's mixed with his own feelings. He also got to say goodbye to Jamie, even when it didn't make anything easier. Tyrion is aware that is not the same, there were different kinds of love, but the loss is still great in both of their hearts. He can relate to that. And because he is stupid and jealous, he can't help but keep talking. "He would had being a good king, beside you"

There is no surprise in her eyes when she turns to look at him, but the understanding that someone who has thought about it before and agree with him. Still, she doesn't comment on it. "I already had two husbands. I don't plan to choose another one?"

"Never? And be alone for the rest of your days?" The only thought makes him sad, for her.

"I never said that"

There is a pause, and for the Hand of the King, that lasts for a million years. He looks right into her eyes, those blue ice that seem so warm when they are on him, like right there and understands something impossible. She is waiting for him to catch up with what she has already decided and it takes all the air out of his lungs that her, Sansa of House Stark, has chosen him against anyone else. Because that's what she means, he can't be wrong, but it still feels like he is walking in some kind of dream.

"Sansa…"

"You said we should had stayed married and I told you it could never work because of a queen that is already gone"

"That doesn't mean that…"

"In all those letters, in all of your time in the North, have you not seen it? Have you not notice that I want you?" Her body is completely angled at him now and there is frustration on her tone, close to the girl he met in King's Landing. In front of him there is a Queen, but still the same Sansa he admired since he met her.

And this Sansa, present Sansa, wants him. It makes him want to cry.

He thinks there may be real tears on his cheeks because the next thing he knows, she is leaning closer to him, cradling his face in her hands and cleaning something with her thumbs. How can someone think of her as emotionless, when she is able to communicate him so much with one look? He doesn't deserve this, her, after everything that he had done. After he had betrayed Daenerys, after he had killed his father and Shae; Tyrion doesn't deserve the mercy that is Sansa's affection, but gods, he is so grateful right now. He would do it all again, as selfish as it sounds, to be with her like this again. In a hundred life times, he would still choose her.

"Silly man" A quiet giggle comes out of her mouth, enough for him to smile chuckle back at her. She is beautiful when she smiles and laughs, so much that is a crime not to kiss her, and so he does. This time, he is allowed to and when he moves forward, she meets him in the middle.

It's like fireworks, but so much more.

It's home and safety, it's new and it's old, it's liberating but so terrifying at the same time.

When they part, Tyrion has to hold himself to follow her mouth or kiss her again, once he sees her expression after being kissed. By him, out of anyone.

It was going to take a while to get used to.

"I…" It's the first time he sees her doubt herself and he puts his hands over hers, to steady her. "It may be hard. I don't… Ramsey…"

"I'll be patient. We will go slowly, with everything"

Her mouth almost forms a pout,  _almost_. "Not so slowly. I have wait weeks for you to realize that…"

"I have made my Queen wait for weeks?! I'm sure that is cause of treason" The joke makes the pout disappears on her face and another laugh to come out of her lips.

It's just his luck the best day of his life happens in the anniversary of the Long Night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has now a chapter more?? the audacity.


	3. the end

 After the first kiss, nothing changes, but yet, everything does.

They keep walking side by side on mornings, reaching to anyone that needs their attention that particular day, but now Tyrion walks a little bit closer and with a perpetual small smile on his lips.  Sansa’s attitude doesn’t change when everyone is watching, but something must be obvious for everyone because their way of treating him also swifts in a way that he wasn’t expecting at all.

The Northern people start coming to him for advice, asking for directions, in the way they do with Sansa. It’s strange, but he replies every time in the best way he can. There are another changes, like the way some of them laugh at his jokes when they are in a feast, something that never happened before, or how they offer him their own beer now without reservations. They accept him now and every time he is surprise by another gesture, his eyes always find her watching him with a content expression, eyes shinning with pride. Those are also the days when she kisses him so hard that his entire world crumbles and rebuilds on her lips.

“Stay” He almost doesn’t register what she says, part because her voice is merely a whisper, but mostly because there is very little amount of blood still in his head for the position they are in. Sansa is straddling him on her bed, legs on each side of his body, and she kissing him like her entire life depending on it. She is a force to be reckoned with, all determination and porpoise, with more than a hint of curiosity every time they do something new or she gets to make him moan in a particular way.

(A part of his mind remembers him that this, getting this far, has taken time and patience; that even kissing was hard for her after the thrill of that first night has worn off. That she flinched every time he touched her, that there were nights when the nightmares make her want to take her own skin with her nails. Tyrion remembers and wants to bring Ramsay back from the death, just so he can kill him with his own hands; wants to bring Theon back from the death, just so he can thank him and hug him and give him absolutely everything he has for getting her out of that hell.

Having her in his arm, in such intimate position, has taken time and it’s probably going to be a while before they can even more forward. He doesn’t care a single bit.)

“Stay with me, Tyrion” He has no time to reply or to even think what she means, because her lips are back on his and the only thing, he can do is hold her tights to keep her close to his body. However, when the thought gets to his brain, he has to slow down their kisses and moves her slightly away, just so he can stare at her. Tyrion is meet with blue, so deep that he feels like drowning in them, but there is also a certain vulnerability that makes him pause.

“Sansa…”

“Your place is in the North” Is not a question, but a statement and it warms his old, broken heart. “Your place is with your wife” One of her hands finds its way to his hair, not softly but not aggressive either. _Possessive_ , his mind supplies. “Bran must know this”

He probably does, knowing the king. He wants to tell her that he will stay, forever, at her side, but being the Hand of the King means so much more than helping her little brother. It’s his punishment, for what he did to Daenerys, _to Jon_. He is so underserving of this heaven he had discovered in her presence and maybe this is the payment Bran had in mind when he sent him North. To show him what he could have and what he will miss when he is back at King’s Landing.

The only answer he can give her is another kiss, more desperate than the last ones and she must understand, because she kisses him with the same intensity.

Another moon passes on a blissful dream, until a raven comes from the Kings asking him to be back. That night, he makes love to his wife, whispering sweet nothings in her ear as he holds her after. It’s the only time they had being together like this and neither of them will allow the thought that it may be their only time, for a long time.

When he says goodbye to her, Tyrion is surprised that she is not alone at the gates. The people that work on the castle are there to send their best wishes too and bring some food and drinks for the way. It makes him feel more at him that he ever did, even at The Rock, with brave Jamie Lannister holding his hand. She is looking at him in silence and all her emotions are hidden in her regal form, but her eyes soften when he kisses her hand in farewell. She had promised to not cry for him, since this was not forever, but he has not made the same promise and he feels like a stupid boy when he cleans a couple of tears of his eyes once they are on the road.

Everything in King’s Landing is as he left it, even when months has passed.

He feels surrounded by strangers and now he understands Ned Stark, always feeling foreign in the South. It seemed like once you had been in the North, it stays in your bones.

“Tyrion”

Bran’s voice is as emotionless as always, and honestly, can he at least be a bit nicer? Tyrion is old, tired and so intensely sad that the least he expects is a little bit of sympathy. Is that too much to ask?

“My King”

He bows lightly, a frown still on his lips, that only gets worse when he sees a smile on the lips of the youngest Stark. “Come, Tyrion. There are matters we have to attend”

Sighing, he follows Pod and the wheelchair back to the private quarters of the King, unsure of why this can not wait until he has settled back. Is the dragon back to kill them all? The Unsullied maybe? Those for sure are waiting for his head.

As soon as they are alone, Bran puts his hands on his lap. “Casterly Rock needs a new Lord. I imagine you have a cousin you can pass your tittle” His words take him completely by surprise. He opens his mouth to say something, _anything_ , but the King is not done.

“And I need a new Hand as well. The consort of the North cannot be away from his home for so long”

He was probably dead.

Really, it was the only reason why he was having this weird hallucination where Bran was basically sending him off and taking away from him any responsibility with the South. There was no way this could really be happening. His sins….

“You did what you had to do” Did he read minds too? Was that a new power of Three Eyed Raven? It seemed unfair somehow. “And the King of the North will need it’s father and mother to guide him, together”

It’s like a bucket of cold water had fall on him. He stops breathing, holding himself to the table to not lose his balance.

“Is Sansa…?”

“No” This was too much for his old heart, everything was happening too fast. “But she will be, soon enough, when you get back to her” His mind is quicker, providing him with images of little kids with red hair, running straight to his arms. He can already image how they will feel in his arms and his whole body radiates with happiness. There is a future for him, with her, and maybe he doesn’t deserve it, but Tyrion is one second away from running all the way to Winterfell in that moment.

His life is waiting for him, no one could blame him.

“As soon as you get it all sorted out, you are free to leave” He had almost forgot where he was and it takes everything on him to not as his King’s words. He is almost at the door when his voice stops him.

“Take care of her” Tyrion turns to look at him and finds some kind of light on Bran Stark’s eyes, or maybe it’s just wishful thinking. Maybe everything is brighter right now.

“With my life”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! Or is it? I may come back with another episode, but this is originally the end of this story. Thank you so much to everyone that followed it! It has being a pleasure and I hope you were happy with that ending.

**Author's Note:**

> xoxo - gossip girl


End file.
